No One Is Alone
by aristocraticartist
Summary: Reverb keeps his promise.
1. chapter 1

_Author's note; I couldnt leave lil Reverb all sad and alone like that after alone in the universe. Let's fix it._

Reverb's life had changed infinitely since that encounter with Cisco's earth-one girlfriend. The tenderness that you had treated him with even after he had kept you for so long had set a feeling inside him that he couldn't get rid of. He had definitely tried to shove it back down, to quell the flow of the feelings building in his chest and stomp them out of existence, but he was unsuccessful.

So, after almost a year of ignoring the advice he was given, he decided to embrace it.

He scoured social media for any trace of you for nearly two weeks.

Reverb got a job as a mechanic to support himself, having decided that returning to crime would probably result in the Vibe showing back up to kick his ass again. He found that while he couldn't necessarily say it was his passion in life, he didn't hate it.

After nearly a month of searching, he was starting to give up.

Reverb scooted himself out from under the silver convertible he was fixing. This particular car came in at least every other week for some issue or another. He wiped off his hands and went over the paperwork before driving it out to the pickup lot.

He sighed, as he got out, swinging the keys in his fingers. The name on the paper seemed familiar, but he had no idea why. Reverb decided that it was time he met such a frequent customer. He straightened his work shirt, rubbing some dust off of the embroidered nametag on his shirt. Since his usual moniker was hated and feared, he had adopted a more informal nickname; Francis.

He poked his head into the waiting room, looking around for a moment.

"(Y/n), your car is ready."

You stood up, stumbling a little in new shoes. "Hi, thats me!" You chirped, a sweet smile on your face.

All the air was sucked out of his lungs.

Finally.

It was you.

After a year and two months of searching, he had found you.

Reverb - no, Francis, he reminded himself - cleared throat.

"Your car is outside, ma'm. Would you like to go over the repairs?" He held the door open for you.

"Definitely. I know it probably wasn't all that much but it scares me whenever the check-engine light comes on." Francis watched your skirt swish as you passed him. You fiddled with the chain strap of your purse, sighing in relief as you saw your car in perfect condition in the lot.

"Well, you really just needed an oil change, but I did a check around and tightened all the tubes and pipes and whatnot. Also the connections to your battery were a little loose, and your spark plugs looked a little rusted so I got some new ones in there for you." He pat the hood of the car, smiling a little. You took out your checkbook and a pen.

"Alright, how much do I owe you?" You started to write down the other information, but paused when it came to the name.

"Nothing. This one's on the house. I figure since I see this baby in so often you probably have frequent flyer miles here or something."

You laughed, a beautiful, bell-like sound that made Francis's stomach fill with butterflies.

Francis watched you keep writing, puzzled. You tore off the check and handed it to him. In neat, loopy cursive, the check was addressed to him for 50 dollars.

"Ma'm, I can't take this."

"It's polite to tip your server." You retorted, giving him a smug smile. Francis returned the expression as he tucked the check into his pocket. He held out your keys to you.

"You're all set to go. I'd say see you later, but I'd hate to have you need to spend your money fixing this thing again."

"I don't know, maybe it's worth it if my mechanic is this handsome. Maybe I'll have to do something to it myself." You slipped your sunglasses onto your face. Francis opened the door for you, and you tucked yourself into the driver's seat, fluffy skirt and all.

"See you around, Francis."

You gave a little wave with a lace-gloved hand as you drove away.

Francis waved back, a tiny smile on his face.He watched you go until he couldn't see you anymore.

Now, he could keep his promise.

Two weeks later, the silver convertible got towed back into the shop, making Francis stop and stare.

It was completely smashed in on one side. He figured it must have been t-boned, and he was praying that you hadn't been in it when it was.

You came in to check on it a week later, coming into the garage in a rumpled, mint green house dress. Maria, the receptionist, greeted you with familiarity.

"Hey girl, how are you feeling? I heard what happened and I was starting to get worried you hadn't come in yet." You gave a weak laugh.

"Don't worry too much. Just some bumps and bruises and a minor concussion. I'll be right as rain in a couple weeks."

"Francis volunteered to work on your car, of course. He's in the old garage if you wanna go check on everything."

You nodded and set off across the lot.

The shop you frequented had recently been rebuilt from a tiny, two-car garage operation to a big, professional warehouse garage. The old garage had been kept, however, since it didn't make sense to tear down a perfectly good workshop. You heard rock music drifting from the shop, and a weird warbling noise as well. You opened the door just enough to peek inside.

He had mounted one of your dented car doors on a frame and was on the other side, out of your view. The dents seemed to be working themselves out with each pulse of the strange sound you heard earlier. You came in as quietly as you could, but grimaced when the door squealed on its hinges. The warbling immediately stopped, and you heard a quiet swear word from behind the door.

"Maria, I swear, if you're interrupting me again to tell me she still hasn't called I'm gonna…"

Francis trailed off as he rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks as his eyes widened. You blinked at each other for a second. He was wearing a white t-shirt, tight black jeans, and leather cuff bracelets. A leather jacket hung on a hook by the door. It took most of your resolve not to gape like a dead fish at how attractive he looked.

"So, uh, my neighbor was right. Francis as in former famous crime boss Reverb is my personal mechanic." You leaned against the doorframe.

"What gave me away?" He sarcastically spoke, leaning against the hood of your car.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the motorbike. Maybe it was the powers." You let a smile spread across your face.

"Scared of me yet?"

"Well, 'Reverb' hasn't been seen in almost two and a half years, so I figure I'm pretty safe." You walked over to him. "What made you change your mind?"

"A guy with a face like mine kicked my ass for stealing his girlfriend. Literally. And she…" He trailed off again, and you saw the breath catch in his catch.

"Lets just say she made him give me mercy if I promised her something." Francis sat down and wiped his hands.

"And what did you promise her?"

"That is something I think you would run out of here if I shared."

"And would you change your mind if I told you that my wonderful friend Barry Allen and his wonderful wife, whom I have brunch with every thursday, explained their adventures in the multiverse to me a month ago over waffles?" Francis stared at you, wide-eyed, as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"So do you wanna tell me now or are you going to make me drag you home with me for dinner tonight?" You went to stand in front of him, and he couldn't look you in the eyes.

You knelt on the floor in front of him.

"You gonna answer me or am I going to have to call Barry and get him to call this 'Cisco' person?" Francis flinched visibly.

"Are you actually offering me dinner or are you just trying to get me to talk?"

"Both, but I will make you dinner if you talk." You took your journal and wrote out your address, ripping out the page and kissing it. It left a mark of your favorite lipstick on it. You held it out to him.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Why would I say no to a beautiful woman offering me dinner?" He smiled, a smug little thing that made your heart skip a little bit.

"Then I'll see you at 6, handsome." You stood up and tapped him gently on the nose before sauntering out. Once you were through the door, you leaned back against it, sighing dreamily. Your first date in almost three years, and it was with a hot former mob boss. Iris was going to kick you halfway to next Sunday, but for a piece of that, it was totally worth it.


	2. chapter 2

_Authors note; Hopefully these links work. these are the dresses you were wearing. Friendly reminder that earth-two is all 50s and stuff, and i freaking love it._

https/i./736x/3f/cc/44/3fcc44d9d1630a9c66f2e2eaac8a4ae2--floral-chiffon-dress-chiffon-dresses.jpg

https/i./736x/9b/8a/bf/9b8abf424dded37fd8ca284c52dcc21e--style-vintage-vintage-stuff.jpg

"You are WHAT?!" Your best friend, Iris West-Allen, screamed through the phone. You held the phone away from your ear with one hand as you closed the oven with the other. You were making pot roast; an old recipe that came with the cookbook your mother bought you when you bought your house.

"Yes, Iris, I know. I have absolutely lost my mind." You took off your apron as you set a timer for 2 hours.

"(y/n), he's dangerous! He's killed people!"

"And he also hasn't even stolen from a tip jar in two years. I think I'm safe enough." You retorted, leaving the kitchen to get ready. Once you were upstairs, you sat down at your vanity to see if you needed any primping.

"Well I will be calling you at 6:30 to make sure you're still alive, and if you don't pick up then Barry and I will be sending the entire CCPD to come get you!" Iris huffed softly through the phone and you laughed,

"I don't doubt it. I'm pretty sure I can get off a text message before he murders me by any rate, though, so if things go south you'll know." You joked, taking out the heat curlers you had put in before starting on dinner. "Should I change my dress? He's already seen this one today."

"No, sweetie, unless you've spilt something on it. Then only for stain control. I swear, your mother taught your such antiquated manners, you need to get up to the modern century honey!"

"I like to be a proper lady, Iris. Besides, my mother would rise from her grave if she knew I even stepped out of the house in an un-ironed petticoat today." Iris laughed, the sound buzzing out of your phone and making you smile.

"That's good enough a reason as any. Even though I don't approve, I hope your date goes well. I gotta go, Barry got home 5 minutes ago and he's really confused. It's going to be so much fun telling him you invited a supervillain over for dinner. Love you, sweetie. Talk to you later."

"Love you too, Iris. Have fun." The phone went silent as Iris hung up, and you sighed as you set your phone down. You meticulously ran a brush through your hair, trying to make your hair cooperate as you nervously got ready.

Francis paced around the garage, having shut off his music. Maria came in without knocking.

"Sooooo, how'd it goooo?" She had a smug smile on her face. Maria was the only person he had trusted with knowing what happened the night he had made the infamous promise.

"She asked me to dinner and I'm trying to decide wether it's a trap or not." Francis grumbled. Maria marched over and whacked him upside the head with her purse. He flinched and frowned, reaching up to rub his head.

"Stop it! You like her, just go to dinner, do your handsome thing, and You. Will. Be. Fine!" She clapped for emphasis on the last four words. Maria sighed and looked him up and down.

"Go home and change. You have grease on your jeans and you need to brush your hair." She barked before strutting out in her typical fashion. Francis grumbled, but grabbed his jacket and strode out. He mounted his motorbike, turning it on and enjoying the familiar hum of the modified vehicle. Fixing his sunglasses to his face, he smiled and pat the side of the bike.

"Well. Time to go impress a woman." He muttered, revving the engine and peeling out of the parking lot into the street.

Today was going to be a good day.


	3. chapter 3

_Author's note; Fun fact, the title of this fic was inspired by the into the woods song. Anyways Reverb is hot._

You gulped as you heard the roar of a motorcycle pulling into your driveway. 6:00 on the dot. At least he was punctual, you thought, smoothing your skirt. You had already made up the plates, set the table, and finished dessert. You had also picked up a cabernet sauvignon to drink with dinner, having already had a glass to try and calm down a little bit. You opened the door just as soon as Francis knocked.

"Well hello there. Do I have the right house, lovely lady?" He took off his sunglasses and folded them, tucking them into his shirt.

"I don't know, do you like pot roast?" You teased, holding open the door. His smug expression melted into a grin.

"You made me pot roast? Wow." Francis shed his jacket, and you took it from him to put it in the coat closet. It smelled smoky and spicy, somewhere between metal, cinnamon, and a campfire. You had to mentally shake yourself to not simply bury your face into it

"Well I had a roast in the freezer and carrots and celery in the fridge, and I didn't feel like going to the grocery store today." You rambled a little bit.

"It's more than any other woman has ever done for me, chica." Francis kicked off his shoes after noticing the neat rack of kitten heels and flats by the door.

"Well my mother would roll in her grave if I did anything less." You led him to your dining room, and Francis looked awestruck. You had just set the table like you usually did, with one of your favorite tablecloths, a couple candles, and silverware, but he was obviously impressed.

"Well damn, girl, I'm pretty sure nobody on the block could set a nicer table." He sat down and you poured him a glass of wine.

"Ok, this is really nice." The grin on his face made you blush. You brought out his plate, watching his jaw drop.

"Pot roast and potatoes a la mom's favorite cookbook, with asparagus. Gotta have a vegetable!" You chirped, putting on your usual cheery demeanor to hide how much your heart was fluttering.

"Wow. This looks fantastic." Francis closed his eyes, basking in the delicious smell coming off of his plate. You set down your own plate before going back to the kitchen to fetch the rolls.

"You made rolls too?" He exclaimed as you came back in with the basket and the butter dish.

"Indeed I did." You smiled as you sat down, pouring your own glass of wine and sipping it. Francis took a small bite of the roast and groaned in satisfaction.

"Woman, I swear, I have died and gone to heaven." He pointed his fork at you and you giggled. Francis tucked into his meal vicariously, and you finally relaxed and started eating.

The following silence was full of yummy noises, plate scraping noises, and the occasional chuckle or giggle.

"Wow. That was the best meal I have had in a long time." Francis gently pushed his plate away from him, leaning back and patting his stomach.

"Well, now that I've fed you, are you going to tell me about that promise you made?" You got up to clear the plates off the table, and he hopped up to help you.

"We made a deal, didn't we?"

Before you could answer, your phone rang and you groaned.

"And that would be Iris, calling to make sure I've not been murdered. Excuse me for a moment." You scooped your phone off of the counter.

"Wait a minute. Wanna have some fun?" You couldn't resist the wicked grin on his face, so you handed him the phone. He hit the answer button.

"Hello, Iris." He drawled.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO (Y/N)?" You heard her scream through the phone, and Francis immediately yanked the phone away from his year. You laughed as you rinsed off the plates.

"Ow, Jesus woman, she's doing dishes! Why the hell would I do anything bad who made me the best dinner I've ever eaten? I might be an ex-criminal but I'm not stupid!"

Iris was silent for a full minute before insisting he hold the phone to your ear.

"Are you really ok?"

"Yes, Iris. I'm fine. We haven't even eaten dessert yet." Francis's eyebrows shot up at the word 'dessert'.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to-"

"Yes, Iris! I am fine. Now stop worrying so much!" She huffed, pretending to be upset before giggling.

"Okay, okay, fine. Call me later though, okay?" You rolled your eyes with a smile.

"I will, Iris. Now goodbye!" You hung up and both you and Francis fell into a fit of giggles.

"I love her dearly but she worries too much. I can handle myself." You put the empty wine bottle in your recycling bin. "Do you have room for chocolate mousse?"

"Is that even a question? You are spoiling me, lady." You took out the cups of mousse from the fridge, walking Francis to the living room. You set them down on the coffee table, and he sat down on the couch, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips in anticipation.

"Before you dig in, spill." You had the spoons, so he sighed dramatically. He grabbed your arm and pulled you down onto the couch with him.

"Well, after Cisco kicked my ass a year or so ago, his girlfriend pointed something out to me. She told me that on every earth she had visited, every Barry Allen had an Iris West, and every Caitlin Snow had a Ronnie Raymond. And she had a theory, and she told me I needed to prove that theory."

You let yourself lean into his side, his arm looped around your shoulders. He smelled just as nice as his jacket did.

"That for every Francisco Ramon, there is a (Y/f/n). And she told me that if I promised to find you, she would tell Cisco to let me go. And he did." Francis seemed sad, so you took his hand in yours and squeezed gently.

"You were really, really hard to find, you know." He muttered, leaning his head into yours. You offered him the spoon, but he took both and set them down.

"I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you would think I was a creepy stalker."You were silent for a minute before you removed his arm from your shoulders and turned to face him.

"Creepy or not, you're the only person who's made any real effort to win my heart in a really long time. That counts for a lot." Francis reached up and rubbed a thumb over your cheek. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes.

Before you could even process it, you felt his lips on yours and his arm around your waist. He dragged you into his lap, the hand not on your torso around the back of your neck. His touch was gentle, but the kiss was rough and desperate. You let your hands rest against his shoulders, melting into the contact. When he finally pulled away, wiping your lipstick off his lips and staring at you like you were an angel fallen to earth.

"Wow." You whispered, breathing heavily.

"Was that okay?" He murmured, running his fingers through your hair.

"It was better than okay." Francis leaned in to kiss you again, but you put a finger on his lips.

"We still have to eat dessert." You whispered.

"Why can't you be dessert?" He whispered back, that charming smirk settling onto his face.

"Id love that but I didn't make you chocolate mousse just for it to go to waste while we make out on the couch."

"Damn your logic, angel." He darted past your finger and kissed your cheek before putting you sideways on his lap. He picked up the cups, handing one to you and taking one for himself.

"Are we dating now?" Francis asked between bites of chocolate.

"I don't think the multiverse would let me say no." You smiled as he polished off his mousse and wrapped his arms around your waist happily.

"I'm so glad I found you." He kissed the side of your neck gently.

"I am too."


End file.
